Pop Rock Pickle Pancakes

January 28, 2017:

Kitty comes upon Rocket and Groot making pancakes when Peter returns from the Hydra Raid. Rocket and Groot are not exactly the best cooks.

Shadowcrest Manor


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: None.

Fade In…

Shadowcrest Mansion is large. Far larger than Kitty might have ever guessed. The curious mutant has attempted to explore it, but she also gets nervous around old and dangerous magic and it is clear that this house is filled with it. Every time she starts down a passageway, a glint of mischievousness in her eye, she hears The Beast from the Disney movie shouting, "It is forbidden!!"

It is after one of those abortive missions that she sighs and makes her way through the house toward the kitchen. Some tea might be helpful. As would a snack. It has been quite an interesting handful of days. Though, usually, Kitty would simply phase through doors until she reaches her destination, with the gem stashed in her pocket she knows that is an impossible thing. Plus, it's good to not rely on her powers quite so much. Maybe there's a lesson to be learned.

As Kitty approaches the kitchen, though, she starts to hear crashes and voices. Wary and worried, the mutant speeds up and then runs, shoving through the kitchen door with a bang and skidding to a stop.


For the record, this is all Peter Quill's fault. Most everything is, he's decided.

Of course, when Rocket and Groot were informed that it was their duty to make everyone pancakes, Rocket's response had been, "What the hell?" It still is, as he doesn't understand Terran logic, but then he's also come to decide that it isn't really just Terran weirdness so much as Star-Lord-class weirdness, in which case logic need not apply or even pass Go to collect two hundred bucks.

Part of the expansive counters within the kitchen are littered with an assortment of pots, pans and other kitchenware that one may not even know what their purpose is for. They've even overflowed onto the floor in a magnificent array that ressembled a minefield for just how far spread they were scattered across the floor.

And then there was white. Flour, to be sure, as though the bag had come to life and belched its contents here and there. There are egg shells. There are empty cartons of milk and a slowly melting dish of butter. There is batter dripping from the ceiling, for some reason or another. And…there is Rocket and Groot.

"Why can't any of these dumb sites agree on anything," the raccoon grumbles, glaring at the screen of a tablet propped up against a blender as he simultaneously pours salt into a spoon he holds with the toes of his foot. He's wearing an apron, one of those kinds that have a musclebound man's bare chest and six-pack printed on the front. Somehow he'd found it in a size small enough to suit him and yet not so big that it drags.

"And what the flark's a teaspoon? Or a tablespoon for that matter? Any spoon you put in tea or on the table works, right?" He finally lets up on the salt after dumping about several times worth that much by the overflow.

While he talks, Groot has been rooting around in the cupboards. Likewise wearing an apron. When he turns, one can see that it most modestly reads 'Kiss the Cook.' He holds up a box of Bisquick, wooden head canting as he asks, "I am Groot?"

Rocket takes one look over his shoulder, looks to the tablet, then double-takes and turns around to walk across the messy counter (thank goodness they don't need health inspectors for home kitchens!) to grab the box from the tree. "Wait, /what/?! There's been a thing of pancake mix all this time?!? We didn't have to !&*@# -You know what? We don't need that crap. We're doin' this from scratch. It's almost done anyway. Here."

Rocket turns to grab the mixer, handing it to Groot. "You mix," he says, chucking the box over his shoulder where it goes sputtering across the floor, heaving a final breath of pancake dust at Kitty's feet. His ears twitch at the sound of the door slamming open, and turning, he grins at the mutant. "Oh, hey Kitty. What's up."


In Groot's defense, it is a small suggestion among everything Rocket has pulled out of the cupboards. He has to give it to his friend, though, putting in all of the effort to make this pancake stuff from scratch.

Agreeing with that earlier comment about the sites having different methods of approach for flat round edible things, he sort of rolls his eyes, taking the mixer that is practically shoved into his tree hands. As he presses the buttons (one of them turns the thing on, where is it— oh, there), he glances up at the sound of the door slam. Lifting the mixer, Groot waves it around in the air, its tines ringing as it runs. "I am Groot!"


Its been a long night.

Its been a very. Very long night.

There was magic. And dream realms and time messing-around-with and a bunch of stuff that Peter Quill wasn't really sure about. The one thing he was sure is that he is /tired/. The other thing is that he really wants panckes.

He is unusually subdued as he returns to Shadowcrest. No kicking open the door. No sudden shouting as he comes in. No demanding booze. In fact he's…quiet.

Entirely unusual.

This might be why its not imeadeatly apparent that he's there. Slowly wondering towards the source of noise with a slightly bemused expression on his face as he appears at the farr end of the hallway. Behind Kitty.


Pancake mix poofs up around Kitty as Rocket tosses it at her feet. There's a soft cough and then a wide eyed look around the kitchen covered in mess and discarded cooking equipment. It would be one thing to see a raccoon and a tree trying to make pancakes, but this is something entirely different.

"What in the—" The brunette is not annoyed, nor flustered to see the pair doing this. In the time she's been in the mansion with the Guardians, she has learned that she should really expect them to do anything and everything. It's kind of their signature. But, making pancakes is still out of her general thought as to what they might take upon themselves. "Hey Rocket, Groot. What are you doing? This is a mess."

Stepping more fully into the kitchen to investigate, she grins and then steps up on tiptoes to do as Groot's apron says: kiss the cook! On the cheek, of course. If she can even reach it. Groot is very tall.

Behind her, she doesn't even notice the approach of Peter Quill. All her attention is focused on the craziness in front of her. Used to Peter's usually brash and announcing presence, she has no reason to believe there may be anyone else here.


Rocket gestures loosely with a wooden spoon nearly half his height. "Yeah, it is. Cooking is glarkin' mess, you know that? Maybe that's why we always eat out." He glances at Groot, brow arching as Kitty moves to give the tree a kiss. Huh. Clearly he picked the wrong apron to wear.

"Anyway. What's it look like we're doing? We're making death pancakes. Or… Wait, what was it again…" He scratches his chin, frowning. "Well, Quill just said'ta have pancakes ready for 'em when they got back," he rallies on, tossing a shrug. "Although since we've never actually made pancakes before, they may very well be deadly."

Giving a shake of his head, he turns, glaring as he starts shaking out his tail, that's somehow gotten its own coating of flour. He looks towards the doorway, noticing that someone's down the hall and it's not the resident mummy. One last flick of his tail and he's hopping down from the counter, leaving footprints in his wake. "-Quill?"


Darn counters, being too low to work on. It's almost like being a giraffe trying to drink water. Maybe he should have cut his feet off for this…

Lucky for Kitty, Groot chooses the opportune moment to hunch forward to mix the batter, shrinking his large tree frame down enough to let her peck him on his bark-covered face. That surprises him. Twigs flutter on his head as he coyly touches his cheek, pretending to blush as he looks away. "I am Groot," he croons, proceeding to get sloppy with his assigned job.

At least the apron is good for something. As for everything else…well, all the more kitchen casualties to count for.

As the mixer hits the side of the bowl, Groot blinks, turning to look back at the door as Rocket hops past them. "I am Groot?"


Star-lord seems to shake himself as Rocket calls after him. A visible effort is made to shake away the memory of whatever it was that happened. Some of it, most of it at least. It cracks away, sliding back from him as he slips into the familiar persona of Star-lord. Left in the dust with anything else that resembles regreat.

"Geeze Rocket," His voice echos down the hall behind Kitty as he slowly ambles up. His voice is still somewhat subdued from normal, but the smirk on his face is all him. "I asked ya to /make/ pancakes, not /wear/ them." A pause. "That is Rocket right? Not some wierd ghost thing." A hand is waved to the other reprobates in attendance. "Groot, looking good rockin' the apron." His eyes fall on Kitty as he smirks. "Kitten. You just look good."

…alright. Some things don't change much.


"I do, actually. I used to make cookies for my students every once in awhile." Kitty grins and leans over to see what it is that Groot is actually stirring. The look on her face shows her to be wary that these pancakes will be at all edible.

"Generally, pancakes are not deadly. But, with the two of you behind the recipe book, I would not be surprised if they killed someone." Grinning, she steps back to grab a rag. "Why would the Star-Jerk want pancakes? Can't he just make them himself? Also, this is Gotham. There's probably a million diners around here with silver dollar pancake deals. Man, Rocket, you've got flour all over you."

Grinning at Groot, she pats him on his barky shoulder. It's not just his Netflix friendship with Lockheed that has made Groot a soft spot in Kitty's heart. The large tree creature is sweet. What young mutant nerd wouldn't want to befriend and Ent? "You're doing a great mixing job, there, Groot."

The smile, however, fades into a roll of her eyes when Peter enters the kitchen. "I didn't realize you could enter a room without a fanfare of your own making."


Smirk or not, Rocket still gets a sense that something's off. He's been around Quill long enough to notice. Giving the man an odd look, mainly to hide a concerned one, he reaches out and plants a floury handprint on Star-Lord's pants. "Yeah it's Rocket, who else would it be? There ain't none other, ya know."

Frowning, he moves to circle the guy in a once-over before coming around in front of Quill again. "You all right? What happened- where's everyone else?"


See, he can do a good job. No problem. With Kitty's words of encouragement, Groot feels lighter. A little more puffed up.

That putters a bit when his attention falls back in Quill's direction, however. While Star Lord compliments him for his apron, his moss-covered brow ultimately furrows as Rocket asks the questions. "I am Groot," he adds, his voice tinged with concern.


"I am full of suprises, Kitten! Hang around a bit longer and you're sure to figure out some more!" Quill replies as he laces his hands behind his head and fixes Kitty with what he would smirk that was full of an open offer to let her find out. "We can delve into those mysteries later, after I get something to eat cause I'm starving."

His hands loosen as Rocket ambles over, one hand going into his jacket. The other waving off the concern. Like he does.

"They are on the way, the ones comin here at least. Everyone is fine its just…" A vague wave. "Flarging magic. Time, messing, with, your, head stuff that just leaves you feeling like you've been put though a blender. A blender that you've just used to make a salzarian sunrises and then forgot to clean out. I'll be fine."

Its not a full explination, its not even a part of an explianion. But right now its all Peter feels like explaining.


Rocket and Groot immediately focus their attention on Peter. This is not something she is surprised about: she's used to this sort of thing with the X-Men. However, it is a little strange to see the murderous raccoon suddenly turn concern on Quill. It's a strange moment for Kitty. Before this, she saw them as dangerous - but wacky! - space adventurers. Now, she's starting to see them as the friends and family that they actually are.

A hand is placed onto the counter…right into some of the batter Groot spilled onto it. With a wrinkle of her nose, she looks down at her sticky hand and then back up at the others. Her attention is still on them, but this seems like a matter to be dealt with between Guardians. She is not that. She is a random guest in this house who is only here because of a magic gem. These people traveled space together.

Her hand slowly tries to wipe off the batter discreetly on her jeans as she rolls her eyes at Peter's quip. "Yeah, in your dreams. I'm not here by my own choice, you know." However, she doesn't press that bit any more, curious as to what it is that has made Quill almost quiet in his demeanor.


He could almost shiver at that. Messing with anyone's head is no bueno business. Flargin' magic indeed. And yet they're in a house that practically runs on the stuff, so Rocket holds his tongue on saying as much aloud, just in case it takes offense. It had talking stuffed taxidermy, for crying out loud!

While Quill doesn't say much of anything else, the raccoon holds himself back from asking anything more. Sometimes you didn't wanna talk about these things, and most definitely not when it was still fresh in your mind. Turning, he brushes Peter Quill with a flour dusted tail, leaving a white puff in his wake as he goes to dig out some pans for the pancake. Yet another thing he doesn't get about Terrans and their naming of things. Why make such small things? If you were gonna have cake, then dangit, make it a cake! Or at least an inch thick.


Compared to aliens and sci-fi tech, magic is a whole different creature. Groot has no opinion on it himself, but he knows it's weird.

Also, Quill and Rocket can actually talk about these things. If they wanted to. Judging by how quiet everything gets within the next few minutes, it's clear they aren't going to go that deep into a touchy subject.

Obviously, this means IT'S TIME TO MAKE THE PANCAKES.

"I am Groot," Groot says, breaking up the buildup of kitchen ambiance as he sets the bowl down near the stovetop. A hand digs through the pans utensils strewn across another counter, successfully finding a spoon. For Rocket to…flip things…with. "I am Groot."


Peter just looks around the kitchen as Rocket and Groot start to move back to man their battle stations. Or cooking stations. Or…well really this place looks like its been though a battle. Peter is only really /now/ realizing how much like a warzone the kitchen looks, and slowly. Oh so slowly it dawns on him.

"Did you actually try to make mix from /scratch/. Why didn't you just use the box of it! Thats why I got it!" He finally exclaims, and just like that. The Guardians once more are functioning as that wacky space adventure team that Kitty might know them ass. The moment of darkness forgotten or passed over. Dispelled by the irrepresible personality that is well…all three of them. "See!" He gestures towards the giant tree. "Groot agrees with me!"

Does he? Maybe? Maybe.

"Eh don't kid yourself, Kitten. I know I'm growing on you. The last time you slapped me it didn't hurt nearly as much as the first time."

A sigh.

"Just what are they putting in those panckaes anyway? Is that caynne pepper?!" A glance at Kitty. "How could you let them do this?"

Nevermind the fact that she just got here.


Kitty watches the interaction between Groot and Rocket and Peter. Sigh. Men. Spacemen. Well Spacemen and Spaceracoons and Spacetrees, really, if she's being specific. No matter the distance, they seem to remain the closed off idiots they were before. However, the immediate and apparent concern of Rocket and Groot toward Quill has put their band of thieves in a different light for Kitty Pryde at the moment.

"You guys really don't know how to make pancakes," she laughs as she watches them attempt their continued process. It's amusing. Despite her arguments with Quill, she really does find Rocket and Groot interesting and endearing. If only they didn't come with the windbag she can't help but slap. "Wait wait! You're doing this all wrong. You need some oil in the pan before you put down the batter. Otherwise it'll stick to it. Geez, what do you guys eat in space?"

Snickering, Kitty gestures at the floor and the powder Quill is currently walking through when he asks about the pancake mix. "You're standing in it," she tells him. "The only thing you're growing is, I'm sure, some form of bacteria. The last time I slapped you I wasn't trying to hurt you. You'll know when I am."

Frowning at him, she defends Rocket and Groot. "Hey! They're trying to make you some food! You weren't even here. Don't yell at them if they don't know if they don't know how. They're trying!" She looks to the tree and the furry space-raccoon. "Right!?"


CLANG CLANGgg There go a couple more things on the floor. Rocket eyes a pie tin with the shrewdness of a diamond cutter, absently accepting the spoon that he's given by his bark-wearing associate. "Oh please, he didn't say anything about agreeing with you," he snorts, turning to scoop out some of the batter into the pie tin. "I did /not/ put any pepper in here- what kind of moron do you think I am?! The recipes only ever say salt or something…"

Insert Kitty Pryde, kitchen mistress. Rocket just gives her a look, as if she's making the understatement of the day. This as he's setting the pie tin on top of one of the burners. "Oil, what? But we put some in the batter already, how much moisture do you Terrans need anyway? -I eat whatever's good but I don't cook it. They got fastfood in space, you know."

Grabbing another pan, he points at Groot and then at the oil, shrugging as he hands the pan over. So said the lady.

"-yeah!" Seamlessly, Rocket hops that bandwagon, nodding at Kitty. "We can't help it if there's a quadzillion pancake recipes an' they all say different things! An' you didn't say you had cheater mix!"


While Rocket is grousing, Groot reaches for the oil, letting his arm stretch out some more so he doesn't have to move as much. The long tree arm gives the raccoon the bottle as his attention wanders off for a handful of seconds. Mmm. Food. Food sounds good. Any food, really.

But he comes back. He always does. At Kitty's defense of their endeavors, Groot promptly nods. "I am Groot!" he throws in. Heck yeah, were they trying! They didn't create this mess for nothing!

And to punctuate the thought, the ent then holds up a jar of pickles, shaking it threateningly. It will go into the pancakes.


"No! No pickles! Pickles do not count as trying!" Peter /does/ at this moment realise that he's stomping though the mix he bought. He glances down at his flower covered shoes and pants, then back up towards the rest of them. A pause. "Well mostly we just order a lot of takeout." He finally admits towards Kitty as he starts over towards the counter.

He's leaving footprints in the mess on the floor as he picks his way though the minefield of pots and pans. "Alright. Alright fine. They are /trying/." A pause. "In many ways!" He adds as he reaches for a pan. Its empty thankfully, and he spins it in his hand a moment before pointing flipping it over and handing it towards Kitty. Handle first.

"So, does this mean you'll help?" He adds as he looks towards her with a grin.

A pause.

"Otherwise we are totally raiding the emergency pizza, because I /know/ you two have emergecy pizza."


Kitty merely watches as more things clang to the floor in a disused pile. That does not instill any sort of confidence in their abilities. "You might not have put any pepper in there, but that definitely does not look like pancake batter is suppose to look," she warns them. However, she only came down here for a snack, not dinner. She's willing to go through with this, even if those pancakes are literal poison. She doesn't have to eat them.

"The batter isn't oil!" She tells him, trying to teach him what little she knows of cooking. "It'll stick to the pan, otherwise." It's pretty immediately clear that Rocket and Groot have no idea what they're doing. It's also very likely the batter they've put together may actually be toxic. While she adores Rocket and Groot, a decision is made.

Grinning at Groot and his shaking of the pickles, she laughs and nods, in complete defiance of Peter. "Yes! This batter needs pickles! Go Groot!"

As Peter holds the pan out to her, she grins at Quill. It may be a strange thing for him to see: it's carefree, filled with trouble. "Thank you, Peter." He should know something is up when she uses his first name like that.

Scooping up a packet she saw Rocket holding back, she rips open the pop rocks and just shakes them out over the hot pan, filled with what may now be slightly burnt batter.

There is no way this ends will. With a laugh that sounds almost like a cackle, she ducks away from the stove and the tiny pops and explosions that carbonated candy may unleash.


There's a dark cackle from the raccoon, the one he usually reserves for the poor sap found dead in his rifle's sight. This is what you get when a raccoon and a tree are best buds. The strangest but most effective threats possible.

Rocket knew he liked Kitty for a reason. Well, aside from every slap he's tallied that she's applied to Quill's face. Having for a moment been about to tell her that he was saving those for adding in after, he very quickly shuts his mouth as he can just See it in that smile of hers. This gal knows what she doin'. Which is why Rocket nonchalantly steps back towards Groot and then scrambles up the tree's leg. "Screw you, Quill- get your own pizza! Heigh-ho, Groot, away!"


Groot snorts a wooden snort. "I am Groot!" Pickles don't make a difference to the tree, he just thinks they're tasty! The combined horror of Quill, the madness of Rocket, and the newly-surfaced evil of Kitty only serve to give Groot the extra push to make these pancakes worse.

His arms flail in the air, similar to a certain Lone Ranger's silver horse, all of it accompanied by the creaking and groaning of wood that may have been a deep and raucous laugh. "I AM GROOT~!!" he bellows, unscrewing the cap of the jar with ease.

A quick shake and the pickle chips fall downward, in beautiful slow motion, toward the batter in the pan.

Plop plopPLOP PLOP.

…Pop rocked. Pickled. Pancakes.

With another 'whinny,' Groot lopes off with Rocket in tow.


So many things happen at once. Kitty starts cackling. Rocket calls for his proper mount. Groot makes his own contribution to the chaos before tromping off, most likely after the hidden pizza. Peter just blinks for a moment, entirely blindsided by this sudden chain of events.

His eyes narrow just slighlty. "You're being too ni—"

And then it comes. The horrible betrayal.

With a hiss like a dozen angry hornets the pop rocks explode and send batter and bits of pickles everywhere. And by everywhere I mean mostly into Peter's face.

With a startled yelp Star-lord falls back from the exploding pan, snatching up a pot to protect him from what he can. It doesn't work well, since he was at ground zero for the explosion.

Batter, burnt and slightly crusty but still sticky enough to adhere, splatter across his battered and beloved jacket. One pickle strikes him just above his left eye and slowly oozes down his face before falling on the floor with a pop. Rocket and Groot make good their escape.


Kitty. Poor Kitty. She's there. Right there. And can't quite get around him yet.

Dead silence for just a moment. And then.

"You should have run too." He says, his voice full of mock savagry as he leaps forwards and…

Hugs her.

While covered in crusty pop-rock pickles.


Mostly the Guardians have seen her to be disapproving and responsible. However, as she has just proved, Kitty Pryde has a terror streak. As Rocket scrambles up Groot's leg and Groot adds his beloved pickles to the batter, she makes her move. Cackling, she makes her way to follow the others as they make their way out of the kitchen and out to find/order pizza. Unfortunately, she can't get around Peter to leave just yet.

Seeing Peter covered in pop-rock pickle batter, she snickers, which turns into an evil laugh. There is mirth there, but it's almost exclusively due to Peter's misfortune. That was so worth it. However, then he moves forward.

Instinctively, Kitty starts to phase, but then remembers the gem in her pocket. Crap. So it is that Peter manages to wrap her in a full hug and smear the pancake batter all over her. "UGH!" she cries out, immediately squirming and pushing to get him to release her. "Let go!"

Well this was a test. A test to see if her reflexes to phase were as good with the gem on her. Because he is /sure/ that if he did this without the gem he would have falled right through the cackling x-woman.

Sometimes. Peter Quill thinks things through!!

The fact that he'll get her just as messy as she got him? Added bonus. "Suffeeeeerrrr!" Is his only retort as he leans forwards and just cheekrubs against her. Some of the pickles latch onto her squirming form. Some of the pop-rocks continue to pop. The dissipearance of Rocket and Groot goes unnoticed.


Peter more intent on getting back the architect of his suffering than the other two.


Of course Peter only thinks things through when it comes to smothering her in pancake batter. "UGH!!" Kitty repeats, pushing and shoving at him. "You are the worst!!" Her eyes look around for Rocket and Groot, unable to find them right now. "Rocket?! Groot?!" she calls out, but they're already gone and she's unsure of whether they would help her or laugh at her. It's really a fifty fifty thing.

The pop rocks continue and the pickle sticks to her cheek and then sloooowly drips down and plops onto the ground. "Dammit Quill!"


Quill can tell her if asked. The answer would have been 'both'.

However with a crow of laughter Quill does let her go. Hands on his hips as he smirks towards her looking like he just won first place at some contest. Not like he is dripping with the leavings of some kind of horrible kitchen experiment.

"You /totally/ started this one!" He returns as he looks towards her with that smug and happy look. That earlier darkness seems to have been dispelled, at least for the moment. Peter Quill is back to being himself.

A totally asshole.

She really did bring this on herself.


As soon as Kitty is back on the ground, she groans and starts to try and slick the batter off of her clothing. Peter really did a good job in getting a lot of it on her. Some of it is already drying on her cheek and she wrinkles her nose. Gross. Quickly, she shakes her hands, some of the dripping is flung against the cabinets.

Glaring at Peter, she shivers a bit at the feeling of having this gunk on her. He shouldn't look so happy about this. "I did! You're the one that wanted pancakes for some reason! And then left Rocket and Groot in charge of them! That's on you!" Annoyed and covered in batter, she turns on her heel. "Ugh!" That seems to the theme.

As she makes her way forward, some of the batter on the ceiling drips and a large droplet of it splatters right on top of her head. Another shiver is given and she clenches her fists before going to make her way out of the kitchen, now covered even more.


Alright. For a moment…Peter kinda feels bad for this. For a moment. "I thought they would just use the mix!" He returns just as a glob of that batter falls right on her head.

He pauses. Smirks. Crosses his arms as he looks at her start to stalk out.

"Shower is upstairs and three doors on the right!" He calls out towards her. "I can come up and scrub your back if you need help!"

He's lucky she hadn't shot him.

Or stabbed him.

She continues to stalk out though before he pauses, and looks around. Slowly the realisation dawns. He is the only one left in the kitchen. That is a wreck. And Zee might be home soon.

…he's gonna have to clean the place up…


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